


When the Wingman gets some.

by cathyelisabeth1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adorable, Cheeky Harry, Cheesy, Clubbing, Cute, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Love, M/M, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:59:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathyelisabeth1/pseuds/cathyelisabeth1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never mind getting his sister laid. Harry needs to get to know this guy, like now.</p>
<p>OR The one where Harry goes clubbing and falls in love. It all happens very quickly.<br/> </p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Wingman gets some.

Harry promised Gemma. Yes, he regrets it, but he promised so there is no backing out now. He doesn’t even understand what a wingman is meant to do.  
“You just have to go find a guy for me,” Gemma shouts from the kitchen where she is exploring Harry’s cupboard for food, “like Cupid! But not trying to find anything permanent, or trying to find the love of my life or any of that crap.”  
“So nothing like cupid then?” harry retorts, still confused by his role for the evening.  
Gemma comes back into the living room and smirks, mostly to herself, “No, I guess not.”  
Harry shuffles himself around on the sofa to face her, “Then what the hell am I doing?!”  
“To put it bluntly, finding someone for me to fuck.” Gemma still has that smirk on her face, and people think harry is the cheeky one in the family. It was the way he was raised.  
“Erm, okay, but how?” He feels he should probably know this sort of thing considering he is nearly 20. God, that’s a terrifying thought. He won’t be able to blame hormones for any irrational behaviour anymore.  
“First, find someone hot,”  
Should harry be taking notes or something right now?  
“Then make sure they’re not gay,”  
“How would-“ Harry interrupts  
“Shush, you’ll figure it out,” She really needs to stop with that smirk or harry is going to rip it right off her face. “Third- am I on the third?” Harry nods, “Good. Third, say you have a really hot sister who needs a drink.”  
Harry is still nodding when he realises that there are only three steps. “Right, so, find a guy, check-“  
“HOT guy Harry, not just any guy.”  
“Yes, of course. Hot guy, check he’s not gay, tell him to buy you a drink.” He has to start repeating it over in his head so he remembers for tonight. He has a shit memory sometimes.

 

Club Jungle is so bad it’s good. There are so many people crammed into what couldn’t be more than 4 square metres worth of dance floor, all of whom are dancing to the most disgustingly lyric-ed songs that Harry will never admit he knows all the words to. There’s a long bar stretching along the back wall with neon lights following the wooden panel around. On one end are the toilets and at the other is booth style seating.  
“I’ll go see if there is somewhere to sit and look pretty, you get hunting.” Gemma whisper-shouts into Harry’s ear, whilst jabbing her finger into his chest.  
“Erm, okay sure.” He’s only been to a club a couple of times outside of college gatherings and now suddenly he is standing in the middle of one surrounded by sweaty, drunk people with the task to find one that is hot enough for his sister to sleep with. When did being a wingman get so complicated?  
After about a minute of panning the scene he spots two lads in a booth facing the opposite way. They seem normal enough. Well judging by what Harry can seem from this angle. They are both brunette, one wearing a plain white shirt and the other, a baggy black vest.  
As he approaches he can see that ‘brunette number 2’ has tattoos all the way up his muscled arms. Harry attempts to figure out what they are but they all seem so random that he eventually gives up and walks around the front of them.  
He’s startled by the site that greats him. The two boys are both very handsome with similar face structures so could easily be brothers. However, it’s the one with the tattoos that draws Harry’s eyes in more. He has these bright blue eyes that seem to stand out even in this unnatural lighting, slight stubble covering his skin and the most soft-looking windswept hair he has ever seen. Harry has to stop himself from drooling.  
Managing to pull himself together in enough time to not look like a drunk, staring idiot, he stutters out a “H-Hi”  
“Hello?” ‘Brunette number 1’ says as the other seems to just be sat staring straight back at him.  
After a while Harry realises that going up to someone and saying ‘hi’ in a club is not normal so he decides to get to the point, “Hi-“ god damn it, he did it again, “erm, my sister is sat over there,” he gestures over to the corner where Gemma has found a seat, both the boys’ eyes follow “and-“  
“I’m gonna stop you there curly, as my friend here is going to have to buy her a drink.” The pretty boy smiles softly at him before shoving his friend up out the seat. “You’ve just saved me the job searching for a bird for this lump of shit.” By this point the other lad has made his way over to Harry’s sister.  
“What?” harry says internally punching himself for sounding so dumb.  
“I mean I was a wingman just like you Curly” he sits up out of his seat to pull at one of Harry’s curls and it’s then that harry realises how tiny this lad is. He’s about the height of his sister, and that’s saying something.  
“Harry.” Harry mumbles trying not to show any dips in his voice.  
“Sorry hun, what was that?”  
“My name, Harry” he really needs to learn to speak louder in these places.  
The boy smiles up at him from where he has sat back down, “I prefer Curly but I guess Harold’s not a bad name either, I’m Louis” 'Louis' Harry repeats in his head like it’s the catchiest song he has ever heard. He then thinks about what else Louis just said.  
“It’s Harry, not Harold” he says a bit louder to be heard over the racket.  
Louis’ smile gets wider as he pats the seat next to him where his friend was sat a few minutes earlier, “Come sit with me Curly,” Harry follows the instruction and slides in next to him, maybe a little closer than he should. “And I heard you the first time babe” Louis continues leaning in a bit more so Harry can smell his slightly beer scented breath.  
“So why are you the designated wingman then?” Harry asks, his confidence sparking up a bit.  
Louis takes another swig of his beer “Stan asked,” harry takes a mental note of the friends name, “And besides, not sure how many people I would find in a place like this that are ‘my type’” he finishes, putting quotation marks around ‘my type’ with his fingers.  
Harry looks up at him again, instantly regretting it when he sees those eyes, to ask “What do you mean ‘your type’?”  
“Oh you know, quirky, genuine guys, they don’t tend to come to places like this that often.” Harry is frozen in his spot, guys, this perfect boy likes boys. He can’t help but smile because it’s like his birthdays and Christmas have all come at once. “Curly? You alright?” louis asks concerned and Harry can’t tell if it’s for him or for himself because louis just told a stranger he was gay and said stranger froze. That is quite concern-worthy.  
“Same” Harry is panicking now.  
Louis’ face goes from worried to confused, “Huh?”  
Harry smiles to himself again. Where is all his winning charm when he really fucking needs it?! “I-I erm- I mean I also like genuine guys?”  
“Then why did it sound like a question, Curly?” Louis retorts  
“Because I panicked” Harry admits blushing slightly but refusing to let the small smile slip off his face.  
“Awww, is little Harry getting all embarrassed?” Louis adds with a fake pout teasing harry even more  
Harry looks up now, smile still glued on his face, “I think you’ll find you’re the little one Louis”  
Louis scowls at him, “You’re lucky you’re cute Harold.”  
If it was possible for Harry’s smile to get any bigger, it just did.  
They seem to sit in silence for a few minutes but it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable. Louis is the first to speak up “So, Curly, tell me a bit about yourself.”  
“Erm- not a lot to tell really, I’m nineteen-”  
“I’m 22” Harry very briefly thinks whether the edge gap would ever be a problem.  
“-doing a photography course and I like cats.” Louis hisses in response to that last one. “what? What’s wrong with cats? I have two of them at home.”  
“You’re a crazy cat man, and to think, I thought we were going somewhere.” Louis shouts, a little too loudly. Loud enough that it turns a few heads.  
“Louis! Shhhh!” Harry tries to whisper-shout but it came out louder than expected with his deep voice. “People are staring at us”  
“Shit sorry,” Louis says back in his normal voice, “forgot we had a shy one here.” He finishes with a wink and a smirk. He’s even cheekier than Gemma, Harry thinks.  
“Oh shut up Lou”  
“Lou?”  
“Yeah, If you get to call me Curly I get to call you something as well.” Harry blushes because he didn’t even realise he said it the first time.  
“I like it”  
“You do?” Harry regrets saying that; it makes him sound kind of desperate, especially when it’s joined with a hopeful smile.  
“Yeah, it’s cute” Louis replies, matching Harry’s grin  
Harry just stares then, stares right into Louis’ Blue eyes. Then suddenly Louis is moving closer to him and Harry has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it. When he has confirmed that this is most definitely real life he matches Louis’ movements and leans in, giddy butterflies starting in his stomach. He goes to place his hand on the table so he can turn to the right angle. And just like always, manages to completely ruin the moment be knocking Louis’ beer right into his lap.  
“Oh my GOD!” Louis shouts standing up out of his seat and sitting down again a few inches over so he’s away from the dripping bottle.  
Harry, just like before, takes a while to understand what is happening but when he realises, guilt washes over his face. “I am so sorry!” he then proceeds to stand up and grab some napkins from the next booth across and run around the table to Louis’ side.  
“You should be! These are my favourite jeans, one of a kind! Can’t get them again!” By this point Harry is attempting to mop up the mess on the seat and stop any more from spilling. When he hears Louis he stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns to face him.  
“I’m so sorry! Oh my god. I’ll pay for-“he stops again when he sees Louis’ cheeky smirk plastered on his face, “you’re joking with me aren’t you?”  
“Of course I am babe; these crappy things are from Primark.” He mutters up to harry, grabbing some napkins out of his hands and starting to dab at his crotch.  
“You’re a dick, you know that right”  
“Nope, I’m not a dick. But my dick is very damp right now.”  
“Was that meant to be funny?”  
“What do you mean ‘meant to be’? That was hilarious”  
“I’m not laughing.” Harry doesn’t know how he has maintained a straight face for over 5 minutes but that is slowly failing when he notices how Louis is now stood up right in front of him, looking up through his eyelashes.  
Harry moves his thumb to Louis’ cheek to brush away a stray eyelash, as the same time as Louis reaching up to tug at one of his curls.  
“Kiss me”  
Harry says it so quickly he doesn’t have time to change his mind.  
Louis smiles, blue eyes wide, “You sure shy boy? Some people are watching.”  
Harry smirks down at the older boy, “Shut up” he mumbles, mostly to himself, before leaning down and crashing their lips together.  
Louis tastes like crappy beer but harry couldn’t care less when all he can concentrate on is the feeling of louis soft hand against the back of his neck, the fact that louis must be on his tiptoes right now to reach Harry and the butterflies exploding in his belly.  
Louis tugs gently on the curls at the back of Harry’s head, making him gasp slightly. Louis takes this opportunity to slide his tongue into the younger lad’s mouth and explore as if he needs to know every part of it, as if he can’t get enough of the taste. Harry starts to fight back, hungrily.  
“Sorry to interrupt lads but we are leaving,” comes a male voice from just behind Louis, “thought you might want to know.”  
They reluctantly pull apart from one another to turn and look at the source of the voice. Its Stan and Gemma with their hands interlocked, smiling knowingly at the both of them.  
“Yeah, cheers, Thanks.” Louis mutters, placing his hand on the small of Harry’s back.  
“Don’t stay out too long Hazza Babe.” Gemma smirks, giving Harry a small wink before getting dragged off to the exit.  
He starts to shake his head and is about to make some snide comment when his thought process is interrupted by lips to his.  
This kiss isn’t like the last one. It’s short and sweet. Just a quick peck.  
“Hazza, hmm I like that, I’ll add it to my list.” Louis whispers. Breath ghosting over Harry’s now plump, and very pink lips. “We did good with those two though didn’t we?”  
“Yeah, I’m a better wingman than I thought.” Harry whispers lowly in return.  
“I think us wingmen should get the rest of the night off. Don’t you Curly?”  
“I think it’s well deserved” Harry replies, leaning down to peck Louis’ lips yet again.  
Louis’ eyes light up even more, like he has an idea. “I say we go back to mine and get me out of these trousers.”  
“I like that idea very much”

And so what if Harry considers swooping Louis up in his arms to gallop off into the sunset to spend the rest of their lives together, as they link hands and almost run out of that club to hail the nearest taxi? When he smiles at Louis and Louis smiles right back with the same amount of energy and adoration it almost feels like they are.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think :)


End file.
